Through the Seven Hells and back
by Giggi1
Summary: Davos comes to Winterfell to discover that Stannis has won the battle. But a victory always has a price... and this time, it is too high.
1. Chapter 1

Davos had left Rickon Stark and his wolf in Lord Manderly's care. The lord of White Harbour had promised to send his army to King Stannis as quickly as possible, and to rally the other Northern lords to his cause. He had also told Davos of the impending battle for Winterfell and given him twenty of his own guardsmen as an escort when the Onion Knight made for the North in all haste.

Yet when Davos reached Winterfell, the battle was already over.

As his small company rode towards the castle, he saw the flaming heart flying over the keep, and felt relieved. Stannis had done it, he had defeated the Boltons and taken Winterfell!

_I wonder if Devan is still alive._

The thought came unbidden but not unexpected; he had worried about his son ever since he had heard that Stannis was marching. Absentmindedly, he reached for the pouch he had used to wear around his neck. It hadn't been there for a while now, yet Davos was still always trying to touch it for luck.

_I guess I'll find out about Devan very soon now._

He was afraid of this conversation but he also looked forward to seeing Stannis again, speaking with him. And he believed that the king would have tried keep his boy safe, and that served to keep his fear from getting too great.

But as they approached the castle, the mood among Stannis' soldiers was somber.

_Is this what victory feels like?_

He wouldn't know: The only battle he had ever fought in had been on the Blackwater, and that they had lost.

_Along with four of my sons, and thousands of good men._

This victory had been a hard-fought one, he could see it from the piles of corpses that had not yet been buried or burned. The survivors were mourning for their fallen.

_War is not like the songs would have us believe, even when we win._

It was not long until a group of knights discovered them and escorted him and his twenty guards to Winterfell. Davos told them who he was, and had to show them his shortened fingers to prove his identity. He was sure that some of Stannis' men had to know him by sight but apparently none of those was at hand. They had all thought him dead, he knew; Lord Manderly had seen to that.

The knights didn't seem to be in a rejoicing mood any more than the rest of Stannis' army, but they told him that Devan had been left at the Wall, for which he was duly grateful, although he wondered what the reason for that might have been. He didn't think he could have beared losing another son.

When they were convinced that he was indeed the King's Hand, he asked them to show him to King Stannis, because he had important news for him.

_He has the North now. I took a while, but I brought him White Harbour._

He had tried his best to do his duty although it had taken him longer than expected.

…

When they first told him, he didn't believe them. Not his king, not Stannis, he was far too stubborn to stop fighting before he had what was rightfully his. _You are wrong_, he wanted to shout, _You do not know him as I do! _He couldn't believe it, _wouldn't_ believe it...

That was, until they showed him the body.

They had laid the king on his bed in his tent, outside the walls of the castle he had fought so hard to take. Davos fell on his knees beside him and he heard the guard who had lead him inside leave; whether it was to give him some privacy or because he simply didn't care Davos would never know, nor did he want to. All that counted was the man before him, the lord who had made him a knight, the king who had trusted his counsel.

_He cannot be dead._

Stannis lay on his back, hands on his side, his expression as stern as it had been in life.

Davos moved his shaking maimed hand to his chest, where his fingerbones had been before he had lost them at the Blackwater.

_A reminder of my king's justice. A reminder of the day one man changed my life..._

He removed his hand from his empty chest and touched the fingers of his king instead, carefully, as if afraid to wake him. He felt like weeping, but the tears would not come.

_Gods be good, don't let this be true._

Stannis still wore the armour he had died in and Davos could not see the wound of the sword that had entered his back. Yet he still knew it was there.

_They said he died in the battle, only a few hours ago. _

_He died, and I wasn't with him._

To know he had come so close, so close to speaking to his king again, to fighting the battle by his side...

_He believed me dead all this time, he had to. How I wish I could at least have told him that it was a trick, that I would come back, would always come back..._

'Your Grace...' he he said quietly, hardly louder than a whisper.

Stannis didn't answer. He would never answer again.

'Your Grace, I'm... I'm back, I- I'm sorry, sorry I wasn't with you, I should've been here, I...'

he could feel his voice breaking. After a few deep breaths, he began again.

'Sire, you told me to bring you White Harbour, but I was too late, I couldn't... not in time... I am not fit to be a King's Hand, but I swear, I... I would have followed you through the Seven Hells and back had you commanded it.'

'There are no Seven Hells, ser knight.', he heard a familiar melodic voice behind him.

He stood up and spun around so hastily that he felt dizzy for a moment.

'You', he whispered.

He had not heard her enter the tent.

The Red Woman looked older than when he had last seen her. There were lines around her eyes and mouth that he could not remember seeing there before and her cheeks were hollow as if she had not eaten enough lately. Yet the fire in her eyes burned brightly as ever when she said

'There is only the domain of the great Other, that no flame nor fire can reach.'

_Does she think i care about her damned religion?_

'Why... why did you let that happen?', he asked her.

'You and your... and your _fire god_, why didn't you PROTECT HIM?' his voice was getting louder with every sentence.

**'WHAT GOOD WAS YOUR PRECIOUS SHINING SWORD WHEN IT ENDS WITH HIM LYING HERE?' **He was shouting now, but Melisandre was still not looking at him. Her eyes were directed at the bed, and Davos thought they looked... pained?

'I wasn't with him', she said, quietly.

_Neither was I_, he thought, _when i should have been._

'You let him march into his _death_', he spat. When he said that word out loud, his vision was blurred with the tears he had not been able to shed before.

_Stannis, he will never speak to me again..._

_And she knew, from her fires, and she let it happen._

He drew his dagger.

Melisandre didn't flinch away from the weapon. She didn't even seem to notice it. She was still looking at the king.

'Why did you... did you _do_ it?' He wished his voice was steadier. And why were his eyes still so clouded?

'Why let him die?'

'I never wished him ill, lord Davos', she said, without looking at him. 'This wasn't my doing.'

_Is that her argument? That she is only an 'instrument' of R'hllor?_

_I was right, that day in the sea. The Gods were right. I should have killed her._

Yet her God had warned her then, why not now...

He closed the distance between them, Dagger pointing at her chest.

'You will not kill me today, Onion Knight', she said, looking at him at last, with all the certainty in the world.

'Name me one good reason why I shouldn't.'

_He trusted her, Stannis always trusted her, yet she betrayed him..._

She leaned towards him, her chest touching his dagger, her lips close to his ear.

'Because I can bring him back.'

Just a whisper, yet it was enough to cause a tiny spark of hope Davos didn't dare to let grow bigger for fear of disappointment. Yet if she was telling the truth... he had seen her powers before, after all. And there had been stories of the red priest Thoros of Myr and Lord Beric Dondarrion, so perhaps it was possible...

He had unconsciously lowered his dagger and was now trying to pierce Melisandre with a glare instead.

_It could all be a trick._

And if it was, he swore to himself that he _would_ kill her. She had given him hope. If she had lied...

'If you did not wish him harm, how come you did not warn him of this march?'

'I do not know.' It was obviously difficult for her to say that. 'I _did _not know. I could not see him in my fires, not until three days ago. When I saw... I rode here without making rest once , but I was still too late.'

That would explain her wary appearence, but...

'How come you didn't see this in your fires before?'

'I do not know', she repeated. It was unsettling to see her like this, her who was usually sure of everything.

'Perhaps the northern tree gods were clouding R'hllors true will, perhaps this is a part of His plan. But Stannis is Azor Ahai reborn, and he has to save the world from the great enemy.'

This was hard for her too, he saw; she had failed protecting her king, and she did not even know what she had done wrong.

_I have to believe her. It is my only hope of saving him._

He sheathed his dagger.

Melisandre took that as a sign to continue the conversation. 'The world cannot win this battle without Azor Ahai. Death is coming for everyone and everything; the darkness that will swallow the dawn. And we can stop it.'

'How can you bring him back, my lady?'

She smiled. 'R'hllor will bring him back. But the longer a body is dead, the more of his inner flames wander into the domain of the Other, who is Death and Cold and Darkness.'

Her smile had faded.

'If I were to bring him back now, he would not fully be here. Yet only the whole man is the Lord's Chosen, and only the Lord's Chosen can defeat the forces of the Great Enemy.'

He wasn't sure what she was trying to say.

'Not... fully be here?'

'There would be memories missing. Character traits.' She lowered her voice so that Davos had to strain to hear her words.

'A _part_ of him is in the realm of darkness.'

After a pause, she continued.

'I can stop more of his fires leaving, and I can stop his body from losing its functions. But for that, I have to be here, with him.'

She paused to gently stroke Stannis' cheek with two fingers. When Davos saw the way she looked at him he could almost believe that she truly did not mean him harm.

'The part of his soul that is no longer in the light has to be recovered if we are to save the world from the coming darkness. For that, we need someone willing to wander past the veil of death itself, and we need someone willing to do that for _Stannis Baratheon_.'

She looked at him innocently.

'Do you know where we might find such person, lord Davos?'

It took Davos a few seconds to realise what she was implying, then he slowly inclined his head.

'I am his man, my lady.'


	2. Chapter 2

The ship was hardly bigger than a boat, yet it had kept him busy during the last three days. That was to be expected; it was intended for a crew of at least three, more commonly eight. But Davos made do, he only had to follow his map and the stars, after all. A smaller boat would not be safe so far out in the sea, nor carry the provisions for such a journey. He had been worried about dodging other ships at the beginning, but the ones he had seen had stayed at a safe distance without paying attention to him.

The wind had been suspiciously favourable too, and he assumed that Melisandre had burned Ramsay Bolton, as she had suggested before he had left. He did not like the notion that his safe voyage had been caused by burning and magic, although he could not say he was sorry that the bastard was dead. For all he knew, it might have been Ramsay who had slain Stannis.

_Still, it is like I can smell him burning in the wind._

He reached for his fingerbones for luck, but only found the ruby. Melisandre had given it to him before his departure. It hung loosely over his chest, where his leather pouch had been. Every day it was a great temtation to just take it off; it always reminded him of how Melisandre's own ruby had pulsed when she had killed Maester Cressen, and when she had birthed a shadow. Yet he remembered her words well enough.

'Keep it with you, Onion Knight', she had said. 'It is a gift of R'hllor, and your only protection against the dark and the cold in the realm of the Other. Lose it, and you are lost.'

It was always warm to his touch.

Davos thought back to his time in the dungeons on Dragonstone. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Melisandre had told him that he had served her god and would serve him again. He had not liked that. Yet now...

He would serve any number of gods she cared to mention if only she could bring Stannis back.

_He made me the man I am today. I am not a smuggler anymore but now I must smuggle my king back from death itself._

It seemed strangely ironic if he thought about it like that.

Looking east, he let his gaze wander over the waves. Davos had always loved the sea, smuggler or knight.

Even though Melisandre had not been able to tell him much about the task that lay before him, she had been specific about the he had understood it, it was in several places at once, but not always visible or accessible. But she had found it with her fires and marked it on a map.

To find it would not be the problem, though.

She had told him that the only time a soul had been brought back had been eight thousand years ago, and not much was known about it except from some few copied scrolls.

'You have to enter the domain of death and bring the king out with you', Melisandre had said. 'But only him. Others do not have bodies to return to and the dead should not roam in the world of the living.'

Not for the first time, Davos asked himself what he was doing here.

_Fool. You are clinging to false hope. Sail to the domain of death... Was there ever a story less believable?_

_No, _he told himself, as he had a thousand times before_, I have made my choice. I am doing this for Stannis, and if there is even the faintest chance to bring him back let no man say I had not tried.'_

He turned away from the sea and corrected his course a little to the south.

A few hours later, the sun began to set. Davos was studying the map yet again, when he suddenly felt a wave of cold, hitting the ship. It felt like a physical blow, and had he not been sitting down, he might well have fallen. He could feel the warmth of the red woman's ruby on his chest. Shivering, Davos looked around.

The first thing he noticed was how strange the light looked. He could not quite put his finger on it; it was not darker than before, yet the light seemed to matter less than it had a moment ago. Nothing he could see on or off the ship was casting a shadow. Even the sun looked cold, somehow.

On the horizon, he could see an island.

_This might be what I came to find._

He set his course towards it, then went to his cabin, searching for the warmest clothes he could find. They did not help a lot, and by the time he was fully cloaked, the temperature seemed to have sunk even further.

Back on deck, he saw that he had come closer the island. It was tiny, not more than three hundred feet across, and dominated by a mountain peak of stone. And it was surrounded by ice. Cursing, he did his best to keep from colliding with the floating pieces. It grew more difficult the closer he came to the coast, and also colder still. He was soon running from wheel to sail and from rope to rope, the ship not meant for one man to sail it through a treacherous ice field.

After a while, it was impossible to go on by sea and he anchored a bit off the island. Normally he would have had to reach the coast by rowing boat, but here he just climbed off and continued his way walking.

Unsurprisingly, the whole island was covered in ice and snow. Davos had been a sailor for a long time, and he did not like this place. It was not natural, that much freezing in the middle of the ocean.

There was no way of knowing where the sea stopped and the shore began. The closer he moved to the mountain, the colder it got, but Davos made himself go on.

When he finally reached the mountain, he inspected it from all sides.

The only way to continue was entering a dark cave in its north side. He could feel all warmth being absorbed from him when he stood near it, and although it was so high he would not have to stoop, it looked pitch black inside. All his instincts were telling him, screaming at him, to stay away as far as possible from this thing. And had he been a smuggler, Davos would have turned back and run. But he was a knight, and a lord, and a King's Hand, and he had a duty.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through.

And then the light was gone.

Davos stumbled as he suddenly could not even see his own feet anymore. Without telling it to do so, his hand was grasping at his chest, seeking solace from his fingerbones but only finding Melisandre's ruby. But Gods, it was _warm_. Even through his woolen glove he could feel the blessed warmth radiating from it. And it _glowed_. Not much, but enough to see his immediate surroundings once his eyes had grown a little accustomed to the darkness. The cave was much like he had imagined it from outside, only darker, and colder. The walls and the floor were crusted with ice.

There was not a single doubt left in his mind: This was where he had meant to go.

_Realm of the Cold and the Dark, indeed._

He would not have believed it possible, but the temperature had dropped to an even deeper level than it had been outside. All the heat seemed to have gone from the world, and now his warmth was taken as well. This cave wanted to make his body as cold as his surroundings and he did not have any way to stop it.

Except he did. The ruby. It was warm, and light, and this place did not seem to have power over it. Davos did not care if it was because of magic, because of a god, or because a grumpkin had made it out of a swarm of lightening bugs. It gave him _warmth_, and it gave him _light_, and he clung to it like a drowning man to a piece of wood because it gave him _life_. Davos no longer doubted all Melisandre had said about the kingdom of Death. He was here, and he wanted nothing more than to leave this cave, leave this island, and never look back.

_I'm not made of the stuff of Heroes. A better man should have come here to cheat death, not a lowborn smuggler like me. What do I know of heroic deeds?_

Yet he made himself take a step, then another, the glowing ruby held out in front of him, moving deeper and deeper into the bowels of hell.


	3. Chapter 3

After about twenty steps, the corridor widened into a hollow. With only the glowing gem as a light source, it was impossible to say how big it was. Davos followed the left wall, so that he would not walk in circles.

Suddenly, he saw a shadow at his right side. Immediately, he pointed the light at it, as if to ward it off, but it had already passed by him and disappeared deeper in the cave._ Mother have Mercy_, he prayed, although he did not believe that the Seven had power here.

Shivering, Davos kept going. He had barely walked five steps when a second shadow moved past him, this time in a greater distance. From that moment on, they were his constant silent companions, always coming from behind him and vanishing in the same direction he was going. They looked vaguely human. After a while, he found their presence almost comforting. Everything was better than walking here all alone.

Davos wondered how he would ever find his king. He did not even know what he was looking for; he just continued walking and hoped that Melisandre's god would somehow make him find Stannis. R'hllor had sent him here, and he obviously wanted Stannis alive because he was the Lord's Chosen. _But Gods make for unsure allies at best..._

He did not dare stop walking because he knew that there was a thin line between resting and turning back. His breath froze in his beard; Davos could feel the ice when he moved his head. It was all he could do to keep the panic at bay, though his heart was in his throat. He knew if he panicked, he would run, and then he would get lost and might never find the way to the surface again. Davos did not mean to die here, amongst the souls of the long dead.

The cold seemed to be inside him as well as around him and he had taken to holding Melisandre's ruby to his mouth so he did not have to breathe frozen air. Seeing it was bliss, the only colour in this black world. Davos remembered the day the Red Woman had let him keep the torch in his prison cell. He had hated feeling grateful towards her.

_She was right. Without this gem the cold would have consumed me by now._

Touching the cave with his left hand, holding the ruby in his right, he tried to see something other than darkness. A clue, a sign to tell him where to go next.

Instead, he saw a shadow before him. Something seemed _wrong_ about it, somehow. A moment later Davos realised what it was. The shadow was coming _towards_ him.

It moved more slowly than any of the previous ones, and when it was no more than three steps away from him, it stopped and Davos could make out something like a face. It was a face he knew.

'Matthos', he whispered.

He was still not moving and did nothing to show if he had heard him.

Like the other shadows, he was blacker than the darkness, and did not seem to walk as much as float over the ground, somehow. But this was the first time Davos was close enough to see a face. It was pitch black too, the eyes, the mouth, the hair, everything. Yet the forms and shapes were the same, unmistakably.

_My son._

Davos was about to close the distance between them, wanting to believe that this really was Matthos, whose face he had missed so much for so long...

Then he heard a voice behind him. A thousand voices, all in one, some whispering, some screaming, all forming one word.

_'Father.'_

The sound sent a shiver down his spine. He turned around, and saw another shadow. It was Allard.

'Yes', Davos said. 'Yes, it's me, I am here.'

He wanted nothing more than to run to him and embrace him, and never let go again. But he did not dare, he was scared they would fade and vanish again as soon as he touched them. He had lost them before. So he just stood there, drinking in the sight of his sons with his eyes. The next time Allard spoke, he saw his mouth move. Only the mouth, his hands and his eyes stayed still.

_'Take me with you, father. Bring me back.'_

Again it was not Allard he heard but a thousand tongues, though Davos thought he heard his son's voice between all the others.

_'I want to see my wife again.'_ A third shape. Dale.

Davos could feel tears freezing on his face though he could not remember shedding them.

'I'm sorry, I am so sorry.', he said, voice trembling.

_'Why are you here father, without being dead?' _Matthos had always been the one with the most common sense. Davos remembered the thousand questions he had used to ask when he had been a little boy.

'The father should protect his children, I am so sorry...'

_'Can you bring me back, father? I want to be a knight!' _It was unsettling hearing the words of his sons said in the tongues of a thousand strangers.

'I am so sorry, I want nothing more than to bring you back, but I cannot. I cannot!'

_'It is so dark here.' _Who had said that? Davos was not sure.

'Your bodies are gone, you cannot come back. I am here to save the king!'

He said that more to convince himself than anyone else. But how could he ever search for Stannis if that would mean leaving his sons? He had not seen them for so long, he did not know if he had the strenght to say goodbye.

_'The dead cannot leave.' _Matthos said.

'I have to try, I have to, Gods be good, I am so sorry! Please...'

_'The way out is closed to the dead..' _The voice was fading. Terrified, Davos realised that the shadows, no, his sons were gliding away from him, deeper into the cave.

'Don't leave me! Please!' It was all he could do to stumble after them. Both his cheeks were crusted with ice from his tears. He could see glimpses of the shadows now and again, but they got less and less frequent until he was in shadowless blackness once again.

_I lost them again._

_My sons, gods be good, my sons..._

Breathing was becoming difficult, he was crying again. Or was it still? He had cried so much in the last days. The air was so cold, it felt like it was suffocating him. Whichever way he turned, all he found was black. Where was he? What should he do now? He was shivering violently, yet if that was from the sobs or from the cold, he could not say.

_I am panicking_, he realised.

As always, his hand grasped at his chest.

He felt the warmth in his hand and somehow, that calmed him a little. He looked at the gem. It was like food for his starved eyes. Davos felt like he could stare at it forever.

_I am not alone in the dark._

Holding the ruby to his face, he began to breathe more slowly.

_I should feel privileged. Not many people have the chance to speak to their dead loved ones for a last time._

_But they didn't say they forgive me._

Davos knew they had no reason to. He had led them into the fire. Now he had found them again, but he could not help them.

Shaking his head resolutely, he tried to banish these thoughts from his mind. He had to focus on his task. His duty.

With his faint light source, Davos found the wall to his left again and carried on walking in the same direction his sons had gone.


	4. Chapter 4

The cave seemed to be endless, and full of mysteries. One time, Davos passed a shadow who looked as though he was yanked back every time he tried to go deeper inside. Then he just stood at a wall, mumbling about outlaws and fire. He seemed to have only one eye.

_Can dead men go mad?_

After what seemed like hours and at the same time mere minutes, he reached a narrow point where the right wall reconnected with the left. There was a small opening that led to a bigger cave, and when Davos looked through it, it looked like the darkness was _moving_.

Confused, he kept watching it until he realised that the hall was filled with thousands of shadows, all moving in chaos.

If he listened closely, he could hear their eerie voices.

_So that is where they all went._

_How am I ever going to find Stannis?_ He thought, despairing. He didn't know how long he could bear the cold any more.

Suddenly he heard a voice from his right.

'Davos.'

It was the voice of a shadow, spoken by a thousand people, but he knew that way of speaking, he knew that intonation...

Turning around, he saw him, and fell to his knees. The floor was icy, but Davos did not care. He had found his king.

'Your Grace.' he said.

Stannis was like the other shadows, without colour, and only the faint suggestion of facial features. Davos felt a wave of relief wash over him when he looked at the king. He had almost given up the hope of finding him, yet here he was, walking, talking, if not exactly living and breathing. He was what Davos had come to this accursed place for.

'You are not dead.' Stannis observed.

Davos was still too stunned at finding himself face to face with the king to answer, but he did not seem to expect him to.

'I cannot go further', Stannis continued, gesturing towards the passage. 'Part of me is still being held back in my body, and so long as I am not fully here, I cannot go on...'

_Melisandre. Gods be good, I would never have found him if she had not stayed with his body. He would be in there, with thousands of others._

Davos knew that this was not fully Stannis. It was a part of his king, a part he had to bring back to Melisandre so that he could be whole again.

'I always tried to go on', Stannis murmured. 'To find my parents, to find Robert and Renly with his peach, to find you, my Onion Lord...' he turned his head to Davos.

'I thought you dead. Why are you here, in the dark, if you are not?'

'It is my duty to my king', Davos replied.

'Your duty to your king ends when your king dies, my lord. Most people take that rule for granted, but I am not surprised that of all the bannermen in the history of the Seven Kingdoms you were the one who did not accept it.'

Davos was not sure if he sounded accusing or proud.

'I am no king here, Davos. In death, all men are equal.'

'You will always be my king, Your Grace.'

Stannis paused at that to intently regard Davos. Finally, he answered.

'Ah, Davos, it is good to see you. I had almost forgotten...'

He looked around as if he was for the first time realising where he was.

'Rise, my lord.'

When Davos did, bits of the fabric at his knees remained on the floor. His breeches had been frozen to the ground.

'How can a man with warm blood visit the realm of the dead?'

'The lady Melisandre told me how to come here, sire. She can bring you back to life. She says the world needs Azor Ahai in the great battle.'

Davos had often wondered if that was the only reason why she wanted to bring him back.

'That may be true, but I am not Azor Ahai.'

'Not...? But the Red Woman...'

Davos did not understand.

'Lady Melisandre is mistaken. The dead know many things and I know that I am not who she thinks I am.'

It was not like Stannis to lie about such a thing, even if he was not wholly himself.

'But then... who...?'

'I could not say. But you must tell lady Melisandre that she has to search for the true Azor Ahai. Much and more is at stake.'

Davos thought that this shadow really could be none other than Stannis Baratheon. Even after being dead and denying being a king, he still felt a sense of duty towards the realm that never had been his. At this moment, Davos felt a ridiculous sense of pride for serving this man, this king, who was not like the other highborn lords.

_But why do I need to tell lady Melisandre?_

'Will you not tell her, Your Grace?'

'I am dead, Davos.'

_He cannot mean to stay here._

'You could come back with me, sire. Your people need you, the realm needs you.'

'My people have never loved me. There is no pain here, no _duty_. Why should I come back? For the realm that never recognised me as its king? The dead should stay dead, Davos.'

Davos felt pained hearing him say these words. Stannis, who had always been so unyielding, never accepting defeat...

_I will not leave without him._

'Your Grace,_ I_ need you.'

'Why would you want me to come back, Davos? You have always told me the truth. Do so now.'

The king sounded as if he did not expect a real answer, as if he did not think that Davos could possibly come up with a compelling argument.

Davos did not believe that his selfish reason would help convincing the king to come back. He should tell him about the realm that needed him, the throne that should be his...  
but this shadow was still a part of Stannis, and he was asking for the truth.

Davos chose his words carefully.

'Mine own reason is... when I learned you were dead, I felt like... like this place feels, cold and empty. I do not like the feeling of living in a world without the only truly just man I have ever known, who saw me as a hero _and_ a smuggler, so long ago.'

'I remember.' Stannis said.

_Does he mean he remembers how he knighted me?_

The king looked pained by the memory.

'I thought you dead as well, twice. But you always came back. It is only just that I should do the same for you.'

Davos kept to the same wall as when he had arrived, but now it was to his right. The king did not seem to want to talk, so they walked in silence.

Davos still could not quite believe he had done it. He was walking towards the light now, not away from it. Every once in a while, he turned around to make sure that Stannis was really, actually following him. He felt as if he might disappear as soon as he looked away. But he didn't.

After a while, Davos' thoughts began to wander. He thought of home, and of his family. He wondered what would happen when he brought Stannis to Lady Melisandre, who was waiting for them in Storm's End. He felt the cold freezing his exposed knees.

Had it really been this far when he had arrived? What if they had taken a wrong turn? It was impossible, he knew, he had always followed the same wall!

Davos suppressed the urge to ask his king if they were going the right way. Stannis would have said something if they weren't.

And still they walked.

Just as his resolve began to weaken and he decided to consult with the king after all, he suddenly realised where they were. This was the corridor through which he had first walked in. With new confidence, Davos strode ahead. Finally, he reached the exit.

It was blocked by ice.

Disbelieving, he touched it and had trouble removing his glove from its surface again. It had frozen to the ice instantly. Dimly, he noticed Stannis coming to stand beside him. He seemed to be lost in thought.

'The dead cannot leave.' Davos thought he heard Matthos among the many voices that came out of the king's mouth.

'But I am not dead, I am alive still!' he burst out, despairing.

Stannis did not answer.

The king Davos had known would have ground his teeth and searched for a solution, perhaps complaining that it was always him, of all people, who had to face these problems. But his stubbornness, and respectively his determination seemed to have stayed in his body.

Davos felt the dark and the cold gnawing inside him and thought of the ruby. Carefully, he held it towards the ice, touching it. Nothing changed.

_What did I expect?_ He asked himself.

Not only was there no magical reaction, the ice wouldn't even melt a little bit because of the warmth, like normal ice would. Warmth...

What had Stannis said when he had found him? He had seemed unbelieving that someone with warm blood could be in here.

_And rightly so, for who in their right mind would voluntarily come here?_

Yet blood seemed to be important to the red god. Davos remembered the burning of the leeches.

Wondering if he was mad, he took out his knife. From the corner of his eye, he could see Stannis turning to look at him.

_There is no harm in trying. Not much anyway. If I can just prove that I am alive..._

He removed his left glove and made a cut on the palm of his left hand. He felt the cut, but his hand was numb from the cold and it was nothing compared to having the tips of his fingers cut off. Careful not to touch it, he let a few drops of blood fall onto the ice.

Where it fell, the cold barrier began to smoke and thin cracks appeared, sending in little rays of light that definitely had not been there when Davos had first entered, even though the entrance had not been blocked then. At the same moment, there was a loud hissing sound. But it did not come from the ice. It came from the cave.

With the light from outside, Davos could see that hundreds of shadows had turned their heads towards them. They did not look friendly. By the time they began to walk in their direction, the cracks had spread all over the ice. With a splintering sound, it broke at last, and though the light still did not feel pleasant - it was grey, and cold – at least Davos could _see_.

He motioned for Stannis to leave the cave, and to his great relief, the king did not hesitate. Davos had feared that he would not be able to get out because he was... well, dead.

_But if he can leave, then so can the others._

He caught up with Stannis and together they ran towards the ship, fleeing from the terrible army behind them. Davos had no idea what these shadows were capable of, and he had no desire to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

The island should seem warmer in comparison to the cave, but it didn't. It felt less cold, yes; but not warm, not even in comparison to anything.

They had climed onto the ship just as the first shadows had almost reached them. Davos started rowing immediately and prayed to all the gods that might be listening that these things could not walk on water.

For once, the Gods seemed to have heard him and the shadows stopped at the edge of the ice field. As he left them further and further behind, he wondered if his sons were among them.

Stannis looked strange out of the dark, and eerily similar to the shadow Melisandre had birthed under Storm's End, so long ago. His outline seemed to be shifting, never staying still.

During the next few minutes, Davos was busy keeping the ship away from the ice, raising and striking the sails, steering and rowing. The more distance they put between them and the island, the less cold it seemed to be.

All the while, the king stood at the rail looking at the sea. When they had finally passed the ice field, Davos went to stand beside him.

'You did it, my lord of the Rainwood.' Stannis sounded incredulous.  
'We did, Your Grace.' Davos agreed.

Then they just stood there in a comfortable silence, watching the waves. Davos knew that Stannis loved the sea, much like he himself did. He wondered what he was thinking about.

It seemed to be a few hours after sunrise, and Davos could look directly at the sun with its cold light without having the need to blink.

_Sunrise, Gods, I went in that cave at sunset! Have I really been in there for so long?_

When he glanced back at his king, he was taken aback at how fragile he looked, almost transparent. And he was flickering, like a flame. Then, without a warning, the world was warm again. Davos staggered back a few steps before he regained his balance. He had forgotten how it felt not having to guard every bit of body heat carefully. The light was warm, and he felt as if a month's worth of tension had left his body. He could breathe freely, though he had never before realised that he hadn't been able to.

But then he looked around, and his euphoria was gone instantly. Stannis was not there anymore. Instead, the ship was burning where the king had stood. Davos blinked a few times, dumbfounded. After staring at the fire for a few seconds without moving, he finally regained the use of his legs and ran to get water. He was about to pour it over the flame, but he hesitated. At first it was because he had developed a sense of respect for fire in the realm of the dark, but after a while he realised that the flames were neither spreading nor getting smaller, but staying the same, about as high as Davos' knees, at the exact place where Stannis had stood.

_Has it killed him...again? Has he gone back to the island?_

But Davos also remembered that shortly before he had vanished, Stannis had looked as if he had flames inside him, as if he himself _was_ fire. Could it be...?

He let go of the bucket he had been holding.

_This fire must be kept save._

So he took a saw and after some time and much sweat, he held a bit of the ship's deck in his hands and brought it to his chambers in case of rain.

_It is a shame to treat a ship like that_, Davos thought, before he realised what a ridiculous thing that was to go through his mind, in the light of the circumstances.

He was still too overwhelmed and perplexed to properly register what had just happened, and the last few days had not been exactly easy either.

All Davos could think was that, after all he had gone through, this was a quite unexpected turn of events. He decided to set his course and sleep over it, because he had never felt so tired in his entire life.

The next day, the whole time since he discovered the island seemed like a bad dream to Davos. He might even have believed it to be one, had there not been a certain fire in his hearth that would not go out even though he had not added any firewood.

Another souvenir he had taken with him were countless frostbites on his hands and face, and a cut on the palm of his left hand. He looked at it thoughtfully.

_A small enough price to pay for a man's life._

His blood may never wake stone dragons, but it had been useful to his king nonetheless. The blood, and the fire of Melisandre's ruby.

_Fire and blood._

Davos wondered if the one person who had been brought back a long time ago had happened to be a Targaryen.

He reached for his chest. The day before, he had fallen asleep without so much as taking off his boots, but now he removed the gem. He would not be alive without it, he knew that well enough; but he had always been a King's Man, not a Queen's.

The distance he had to cover was roughly the same as it had been from Winterfell, but the wind was not as favourable this time, so he did not make the same good time.

Every day, in the evening, Davos kneeled before the fire and explained where they were and how long he estimated it to take until they reached Storm's End. He felt half a fool doing that, since he had no idea if Stannis could hear him, if he was even there. But he saw no harm in trying.

In the afternoon of the fifth day, he could finally make out the Stormlands in the distance. Davos corrected his course a bit to the south, and then went to his chambers to tell the flames.

'The Stormlands are in sight, Your Grace', he said, kneeling. 'We will reach them in a few hours from now. Lady Melisandre will be there. I know you trust in her powers.'

He wondered what had happened to Stannis' army. Had they enough faith in the Red Woman to stay loyal to a dead man? The Queen's men probably did, and his Bannermen would keep fighting for Shireen, or so he hoped.

But what of the Northmen? They had probably stayed in the North, perhaps in Winterfell. They had a Stark now, and Davos did think it likely that they would fight for Stannis, even though they had seen him die. It could be that they were suspicious of his resurrection, but it could also give them courage that the king was not defeated that easily. Hundreds of men followed lord Dondarrion, after all. Of course, nothing was certain, but it was no use to ponder on the matter.

With these thoughts going through his mind, Davos sailed into Shipbreaker Bay. How often had he done this now? And how often in plain sight? The sun would set soon, but for now, there was still plenty of light. He was flying the flaming heart and so were many other ships in the port.

_They have not forsaken the Lady Melisandre, then._

He was relieved by that; what could he have done if he came back only to discover that Stannis' lords had decided that they did not want the Red Woman anymore? The Queen's men were numerous, true; but it was the king who had stopped his other supporters from working actively against the red priestess.

_It is Stannis who always made sure she was respected by his Bannermen, just as he did for me._

Davos had no illusions that he would not long stay a lord without Stannis Baratheon.

If the people of Storm's End were taken aback by the former King's Hand carrying a torch-like device through the castle, they hid it well. Perhaps they were used to fire being around them, for they were Queen's Men all. Davos did not have time to figure out what that might mean because he was immediately met by a squire at the castle gates.

'Lady Melisandre has seen your return in the fires, my lord. She told me to bring you to her as quickly as possible.' He threw a curious glance at the fire, but when Davos did not say anything, he did not ask any questions.

They had brought the king to his old chambers, where Davos had visited him once or twice before Robert had given him Dragonstone. Melisandre was already waiting for them and dismissed the squire as soon as he had entered the room.

Davos' gaze was drawn to the bed by an irresistible force. Melisandre had not lied when she had said she could preserve him; the king looked almost exactly the way he had outside Winterfell. Someone had replaced his armour with his court clothes and drawn strange marks over his body with a red paste. Davos had a pretty strong idea on who that _someone_ might have been.

Melisandre carefully took the fire from Davos, and he did not resist.

_I have seen his body before. It should not disturb me so much._

Yet it felt just _wrong_ to see the king lying there motionless, not moving, not pacing the room and grinding his teeth. Davos imagined him opening his eyes any second and scolding him for foolishly standing around. But of course, he knew that wouldn't happen.

_I have spoken to him again. I have.  
__  
_He could not quite believe that Stannis' body had really lain here all this time, while Davos had met him, and walked with him.


	6. Chapter 6

Melisandre's voice seemed to reach him from somewhere far away.

'Is this the king's fire?'

Davos blinked a few times, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

'It was a shadow, my lady, until we left the... the _cold_.' Cold seemed the only word that came close to describing the place where he had found Stannis.

'Of course he is fire', Melisandre murmered, as if to herself. 'Fire is life, and the dead cannot be in the world of the living. His soul is alive...'

She stared into the flames thoughtfully.

Davos desperately wanted to know what she saw, and if her magic would work.

'Is this what you need?' he asked her.

'It is what _he_ needs to be whole...'

She went to the fire that had already burned in the hearth when Davos had arrived.

'Lord of Light!' she called. 'We thank you for this day! Help us in our fight against the Other, we beg you! Bring back your Hero!'

_He is not Azor Ahai _, Davos thought, but he kept silent.

'Grant him strength! Grant him courage! Grant him wisdom! Take his body and his splintered fires and make them one again!'

Then she bagan to sing in a tongue Davos did not know. Her body was moving with the rhythm, the ruby at her neck pulsing, all the while she was holding the flames Davos had brought her. They seemed to respond to the music, burning brighter and higher. Davos backed away. The marks on Stannis' body began to glow and flicker. Davos could see night falling outside the window, saw the stars coming out. And Melisandre sang, for what seemed like hours.

Finally, her song reached its peak and she caught the flames she had been holding. They parted from the wood, which fell to the floor clattering, and she held the fire in her hands. Reaching the last note, Melisandre brought them to her mouth and drank them, consumed them completely.

When she opened her eyes, they were blazing like the flames were visible just behind them. Kneeling beside the king, lady Melisandre took his face into her hands. Then she pressed her mouth to his.

Davos would have called it a kiss, except he had never seen a kiss where fire was passed on from one body to another. He could see the flames moving between their mouths.

When the symbols on the king's skin had stopped glowing, Melisandre sank to sit on the floor, looking exhausted. Her lips were bleeding and full of blisters.

Suddenly Davos heard a sharp intake of breath. Looking at the bed, he saw Stannis, he was breathing, gasping for air like a man close to drowning. Davos could only stare at him in amazement as he opened his eyes, blinking. He had not seen these eyes that looked so much like the sea during a storm since the king had sent him away to White Harbour, and he had feared to never see them again. He went to the bed and kneeled before him.

Stannis looked around, becoming aware of his surroundings. Confusedly, his gaze alternated between Davos and Melisandre, who had risen to her feet again, breathing heavily but with a triumphant smile on her face.

'I... why... where...?'

Stannis looked so completely and utterly lost that Davos instinctively wanted to take his hand to reassure him. He had already started to move it, but just in time, he remembered that it was not his place to do so. He placed his hand on the bed instead, hoping that the gesture seemed natural.

To his surprise, the king laid his own hand over Davos' while still looking around the room, and grasped it tightly.

Now he could hold on to something he seemed calmer, and the confusion gave way to his customary stern expression.

'This is Storm's End. What of the battle?'

It was Melisandre he looked at, and it was her who answered.

'We won the battle. Winterfell is yours.  
Yet you were killed, my king. It was the Lord of Light that brought you back to life, for you are Azor Ahai.'

When she said that name, Stannis frowned and thoughtfully looked at Davos.  
Then he suddenly seemed to realise that he was still holding his hand. He gently let go of it while saying, 'I... it was so dark... and then _you_ were there...' He shook his head. 'A dream, nothing more.'

Davos knew what the king was talking about.

'It was not a dream, Your Grace. I _was_ there.'

He searched for words to describe what had happened after the battle, but lady Melisandre saved him the trouble.

'Lord Davos sailed to the realm of the Great Other whose name must not be spoken, and retrieved your lost fires. For only as a whole are you the Prince That Was Promised.'

Stannis raised his eyebrows and his gaze rested on Davos.

'If this was not a dream... but it could hardly be a memory of death!'  
'Why not? There is a place the dead go. You were there, and lord Davos saw it with his own eyes.'

Stannis seemed to have difficulty really believing what she said. Davos could understand him all too well.

'Lord Davos was there, and he is apparently not dead, so how... On the other hand, I seem to remember feeling surprised when I saw that he was not dead...'

He seemed to realise that Davos should actually not be alive and gave him a startled look.

'You explained that to me when we talked!'  
'It was a trick, Your Grace, to let the Freys and everyone else believe me dead.'

It did not seem important now.

'White Harbour is yours. After I came to Winterfell, I sailed to an island in the Narrow Sea. There was a cave, a cold, dark cave full of shadows. One of them was... like you, and we talked, and I brought y-... it... here.'

Davos felt uncomfortable talking to Stannis about his shadow. He decided to leave it to Melisandre to explain the whole thing further, should he wish to know more.

The king seemed deep in thought.  
After a while, he said, 'Leave us for a moment, my lady.'  
'Of course, my king.'

When she had left the room, the king sat up, leaning his back against the wall and motioned for Davos to sit in a chair next to it. Suddenly noticing the paint on his body, he angrily wiped it off his face.

'What is this now?', he murmured with annoyance. Then he seemed to decide that his objections to being painted on could be expressed later, and he turned to Davos.

'I should be surprised to see you alive, lord Davos, but I could not imagine you to be anywhere else. You appear to have a habit of coming back from the dead, though not as literally as I did. It seems that was your work as well.'

'The lady Melisandre brought...'

Stannis waved his words aside.

'You both played your parts in this. But I did not think that you would ever work with lady Melisandre by choice.'  
'We had a very important common purpose, Your Grace.'  
'Still, I am surprised you let her order you to go to that... place. I seem to recall being there and talking to you, though it is all somewhat indistinct.'

_She did not _order_ me to do anything._

'I did not go there for _her_, Your Grace.'  
'But what compelled you to search for the place where people go after they die? That is hardly a common decision, even for a man who smuggled onions into a besieged castle.'

Stannis sounded genuinely curious, as if he expected Davos to tell him that he personally had always wanted to see the afterlife, or that he had heard that they made great fish stew there.  
Maybe it was a valid question; at times, Davos himself had wondered why he was doing it. But now he saw his king breathe, and heard his voice, there could be no doubt for Davos that this, _this_, was the only reason he needed to go wherever Stannis required him to go.

'When you asked me in the realm of the dead I told it true, Your Grace. When you were dead, I...'

He searched for the right word.

'… I grieved for you. And I knew I would do anything to bring you back.'

Davos knew the king was not one for sentimentalities, but he could find no other way to truthfully answer his question. Nevertheless, he felt awkward saying these words out loud. He was not sure if it was something that you were supposed to tell your liege lord.

While Davos had been talking, Stannis had looked at him with an indecipherable expression on his face. To Davos' surprise, the king did not reprimand him for his inappropriately familiar words. Instead, he turned his head to the other side of the bed and quickly changed the subject.

'I remember that conversation as if from a dream... but I still know that I am not the Lord's Chosen.'

He looked at Davos again.

'You did not tell her, did you?'  
'No, Your Grace. It was not my place to pass on something my king confided to me.'

It was not a lie, although in truth he had been worried that lady Melisandre might not agree to bring him back to life if he was not her precious Chosen One. Davos had never needed Azor Ahai, though; only Stannis Baratheon.

The king's expression told him that Stannis suspected his real reason, but to Davos' relief, he did not pursue the subject.

For a while, they just sat there in silence. Davos could see that Stannis was deep in thought. He did not want to disturb him, but he would give much and more to know what was going on in the king's mind.

When Stannis quietly started to talk again, he spoke slowly, as if he was weighing every word carefully.

'You know I have always believed in doing one's duty, and I have never demanded anything less from my subjects. Yet you, as always... You did far more than your duty.  
Your loyalty is... it is more than I deserve, and I have never even thanked you.'

Stannis was not in the habit of thanking anyone. Davos knew that he felt that everything his subjects did for him was their duty anyway, and duty should be taken for granted.

_You never needed to thank me. Your trust was enough, will always be enough._

'You deserve it much and more, Your Grace. You have earned it countless times with justice and honesty.'

After that, none of them said another word for a long while. Davos had never minded these silences. Sometimes, there was just no more to be said.

When Davos could feel his eyelid getting heavy - he had been up all night, after all – the king sighed and began to speak again.

'Tell lady Melisandre that I require her presence. I must needs tell her that I am not the man she seeks.'

He did not have to say out loud what they were both thinking: That she would almost certainly leave. Davos knew that this could not be easy for Stannis. He had learned to rely on her, not just her powers, but her counsel.

'Your Grace, you do not need to...'  
'I will not deceive her. The realm is in danger, and it is my duty to tell lady Melisandre that she has to find the man who is fit to save it. Wether I am Azor Ahai or not, I am still the rightful king. I must protect my kingdom, and I will protect it from the threat in the north. I will fight the Others, prophesies or no... But it may be that R'hllor's hero is our only hope.'

Davos knew there would be no swaying the king to wait until he had fully recovered, and he could not say he would be sad the see the back of the Red Woman. But she had brought back his king, and for that he was thankful.

He stood up and made to leave the room. He was almost at the door, when the king said, 'Davos.'

He stopped and turned around.

'I never thought anyone would grieve for me.' Stannis said quietly.

Davos did not know how to answer, so he inclined his head to his king, to show his respect to his liege and his appreciation of his words.  
Stannis gave him a court nod as a sign of dismissal.

Davos left the room just as the first light of the dawn could be seen through the window.

_I hope I could remedy that, Your Grace._


End file.
